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“How are you feeling?”
“Numb. I thought that maybe coffee would help.”
My eyes drifted to the table. “The cup is empty.”
“Right.” She was not the spirited Chiara I got to know. It was like someone emptied her of energy. “I came here to make some coffee and then I started thinking about other things.”
“It’s ok, I’ll make you some.” I took the cup from her and turned on the espresso machine. “Sugar no cream, right?”
Chiara chuckled.
“You remembered.”
“Yeah, it’s not hard.”
“Right. Goliath takes his coffee the same way.”
“Every day at eight thirty. His life is much more…settlednow.” Goliath is one of the most serious people I’ve ever known, acting well beyond his age. Chiara was the only one who broke his routine.
“We were terrible for each other, weren’t we?” She said, a bittersweet smile on her face.
“There was a lot of yelling.” They fought as hard as they loved. “But I wouldn’t say that.”
I gave her the cup of coffee and fixed one for myself.
“Thank you, Grazia, for what you did for Salvatore. He really needed you here.”
“Of course.”
“But why?”
Why? Because he was Salvatore Fiori, the one I’ve loved since I was in kindergarten, no matter how hard I’ve tried not to.
“He needed me.”
“Yes, but something doesn’t add up to me. You haven’t spoken to him in four years and then my brother decides to bring you here?”
“I…”
“You two are still in contact, aren’t you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Love often is.” She looked at me over the rim of the cup. “At least you two decided to fight.”
Unlike Goliath. She didn’t say it, but we both knew that’s what she was thinking.
“I should go wake Salvatore. I have to get out of here soon. If anyone finds out…” Me being seen here was the last thing anyone needed right now.
“They won’t. Pietro is waiting outside to drive you home in an unmarked car and everyone else is at the chapel. The whole family will go to pay their respects to Adrian today.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t get used to the idea that he’s gone.”
“It’s too soon.” I wasn’t a stranger to the pain she was feeling. When my mother passed, it took months for me to stop crying. Salvatore sat with me every night until all my tears were dry.
She cleared her throat. “He walked me down the aisle, you know. When Bruno – my husband – came to take my hand from his, Adrian pushed him back and asked me if I still wanted to do this and if I didn’t, he’d take me out for ice cream.”
“You were his favorite niece.”
“He made me feel protected. God, I don’t know how I’m going to break this news to my son. He adores Adrian.” Not knowing what else to say, I placed my hand over hers.
